


Wednesday Afternoon

by TheCapTheCapTheOnlyCap



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Authority Figures, BDSM, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Eventual Smut, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Power Play, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8281754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCapTheCapTheOnlyCap/pseuds/TheCapTheCapTheOnlyCap
Summary: Maybe it's just a school girl crush on Mr Knight...but it feels, different.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Wednesday afternoon, nothing was really happening. Maths last lesson was a bore, but there were only around 15 minutes left to go. The birds were picking at the remains the students had left behind after lunch break, which consisted of pop bottles, cake wrappers and the occasional sandwich crust. October weather is the best kind of weather. It’s cold, but not freezing, and the trees are so gorgeous. Each and every leaf on every tree you stumble across has a different colour, vivid and bright. Waking up in the mornings was that much harder because it was so cosy in bed and so so cold when you finally decided to move. The mist danced around your ankles on your brisk walk to school, sometimes even masking objects only a few feet in front on the especially cool days.  
But all of this was only seen if you had the time or patience, and during school where the majority of the time was spent trying not to fuck up your GCSE’s or fuck up your social status there really wasn’t the time. Still, the outside of the classroom seemed so much more interesting than the inside. You glanced at the back wall to check the time – 10 minutes until the end of the day. That’s not too bad. You exhaled deeply, not aware of how loud it actually was, and lowered your gaze to the stained navy carpet.

“Something more exciting than quadratics?”

Your head flipped round to your right, facing the front of the classroom, and him staring down at you. Mr Knight raised an eyebrow and flashed a smirk from the corner of his mouth at you. The expression of surprise plastered across your face eventually returned him a smile as you hung on the eye contact for a moment. A small snicker escaped from your lips. 

“No, Sir.”

You replied, shifting your body back around to face forwards, seemingly pleasing the maths teacher, as he returned to the white board behind him. You barely pay attention as the remaining minutes pass by, you’ve covered this subject before anyway, so it’s not like you’re missing anything you don’t already know. That’s the great thing about having a photographic memory – paying attention in class isn’t as crucial to you as you know it is to some of your peers. Sir normally lets the class out early when it’s last lesson, but you barely hear him mumble the words to pack up as your peripheral vision tells you almost everyone is nearly standing up and shoving their textbooks back into their bags. Hurriedly, wondering if anyone noticed you weren’t paying attention, you rise from your seat and collect your pens from spread out across the desk.

“Yes, I know how much you love my lessons Tasha but you do have to leave after the hour is up.”

You glance up at your senior once again, this time not stopping to utter a response and instead playfully shaking your head as you pull your bag onto your shoulder. He beams back, returning the front of the classroom and facing his students. 

“Right, off you go then…and don’t forget the homework is due for tomorrow!”

He mutters half-heartedly as he steps forward to open the door, knowing already that somebody will ‘forget’ it or ‘lose the sheet’ and he’ll have to deal with it in the morning. It’s finally 3pm, and the year 11 class filters out of the stuffy room, chatter and laughter loud in the hallways.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to maths class, your mind drifts a lot during this one. Thinking about a lot of things, some things you probably shouldn't be thinking about...

Next week - same scenario. The only saving grace about maths is the eye candy. Damn, Mr Knight really is good looking. Most of the girls in the year are crushing on the PE staff, specifically the new young teacher Mr Bowles. He has the classic short back and sides of dirty blonde hair, and olive skin which he doesn’t mind showing off. Apparently, he also has a tattoo just above his waistband with some writing which some of the girls seemed to have noticed, but as far as you’re concerned that is of no interest. “He looks like a shaved badger if you ask me” one of your friends had said the other day, causing you to have an uncontrollable outburst of the giggles and almost land you in a lot of trouble. Just thinking about that moment made you smile down at your desk and chuckle a bit – Elly was so funny sometimes, and it always seemed to be at the times when you needed it most. 

Of course she wasn’t your only friend at Tudor Grange, your band of merry men had seemed to shrink a bit over the years, but to be honest it seemed like a positive, as you now were closer to the best of them than you ever had been to any of your ‘friends’ back in year 7 and 8. There was Marcus, pretty much your brother, who you confided in everything to, and Rachel, the kinky best friend who you always seemed to be around, and was really the best for venting to about weird obsessions and ideas, as it appeared she’d thought of the majority of them before anyway. There were others too, but only these three plus Hannah were really the most important to you. You know, the kind of friends you’d do anything for, which sounds really poetic but it’s just the truth. 

“Right…Katie can you give these out for me?”

His voice interrupted your train of thought, and your eyes trailed after where the noise came from. There he was, Mr Knight at the front of the room as always, chatting to a student on the front row. An inaudible groan rumbled in your throat, damn he looked good today. It appeared the teacher was chatting to one of the girls on the front desk – which automatically made your clammy hand sort of ball up into a fist, even though you had zero fucking reason to be jealous. He was literally just talking to another student…as teachers do. Besides the fact that, oh yeah, he was a teacher. It’s just wrong to think of him lying naked on your mattress but damn it sure seemed like a normal thing by the amount of time you spent thinking about it. The way his hair would look out of place and ruffled, the way his pale skin would look against your dark bed sheets. It’s absolute filth and it’s wrong. Sure, a schoolgirl crush on a teacher is pretty common – but this just didn’t seem that simple. 

It wasn’t just attraction that you felt, it was something odder. Something about his age? Or was it that he was just a male authority figure? You weren’t sure. Maybe there wasn’t really a label for what you felt towards this guy who was presumably more than double your age. All you knew was that you wanted him to protect you and care for you, yet also fuck you through the floor whenever he wanted. You’d read online that a lot of people in the same scenario had something called ‘Daddy Issues’. Normally it stemmed from a rough upbringing, where people had a difficult relationship with their father whilst a child. But you hadn’t had any of that, you loved your dad, and sure he wasn’t perfect but is there really a perfect parent? 

Your daydream went full circle back to Mr Knight and the lesson you were currently in. Your tunnel vision for him adjusted to the actual paper that he was talking about to Nafeesah, what was it? Oh shit. The test. Suddenly landing back into the present moment, you remembered the test you finished last lesson. Fuck. I don’t remember it going horribly. You thought to yourself quietly. Maybe it wouldn’t too bad. What if it was? What if you’d done awfully on the test? Worse than everyone else? You probably wouldn’t get moved down into set 2, not after one bad test. But what if Mr Knight was disappointed? Shit see this is where the teacher crush line got blurry. 

You wanted to please him – not sexually – but just impress him. Wanted to show him you were a good girl and you could do whatever for him. And if not, you wanted to be punished…

Your thought process was invaded by Katie sliding your paper down the row to you. It was face down. Ah shit. You quickly flashed a look at Mr Knight, and to your surprise he was looking right back. His eyes traveled down to the paper, still face down, untouched, in front of you. He quickly cleared his throat and stood up from his perch on the front desk:

“Okay guys the paper is out of 62, and anything over about 50% is a 7.”

His gaze met yours. 

“So don’t worry too much.”

You knew he was speaking to the entire class when he said this, but in your own twisted mind he was just talking to you. You couldn’t help it when those eyes seemed to go straight through you, scan your worried mind and act accordingly just to make you feel okay. The corner of his mouth turned into a reassuring smile, the kind your friend makes when they know you’re down, and it makes you feel all warm and full inside. 

You flipped over the paper.

38.

Eh, not too bad. Your head tilted upwards again, finding his eyes still resting on you. Raising an eyebrow, you searched him for clues as to how he would react. The maths teacher nodded subtly and laid out an impressed expression on his face, making you reply with a wry smile. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. 

After that, class consisted of correcting the mistakes people had made in the test, and some other admin that needed to be finished. People packed up as usual, and departed the classroom on route to their next lessons. You ended up at the back of the line, (nothing out of the ordinary) and exchanged a final smile with Sir as you headed towards the door.

"You know, you really shouldn't worry so much Tasha. You're a good student." 

Your heart fluttered and felt like it thumped against your ribcage as your hand slipped from the door handle. Him praising you was possibly one of the most enticing things your ears could ever imagine. You closed your eyes for a moment, hoping to clear your mind and offer a dignified response, yet all you could see was the image of him standing over you, jaw hung open with pleasure, peering down at you. On your knees in front of him as he grabbed at the mess of your hair, your knees burning into the carpet. Him dripping into your mouth, across your lips, down your chest. The image burned on the back of your eyelids and made you weak with hunger. 'Good girl.' You could almost hear him whisper it...

"Thanks, Sir."

You managed to muster, hearing your voice audibly crack. You didn't bother turning around before you promptly fled the classroom in search of a distraction. But nothing worked. The entirety of that day was spent with that thought whirring around in your head like a hive of bees. Oh God, this was not just a crush.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You haven't been concentrating in class and need a study support after hours, unfortunately the weather takes a turn for the worse...

“Alright have a good weekend guys…and please, please! Don’t forget the second test is on Monday!”

You sighed loudly, another hour over. Running a hand through your thick auburn hair, you knew what was coming. The past few lessons you hadn’t been concentrating at all in maths. The thought of Mr Knight in that way…it refused to leave your mind. His jaw so wide open like that…the lust filling his eyes…his fingers gripping onto your hair like he could feel nothing else but that…his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours, deep and meaningful. There was so much to process, so much to get distracted by.  
This brought what you thought was a weird crush to a whole new level. You wanted him, in any way possible. Even the tiny walk-in cupboard adjoined to the maths room. The textbooks falling off the shelves like an avalanche as he fucked you into the wall. There were so many different ways to imagine it, it seemed to occupy pretty much all of your waking hours. Which was great while it lasted, until you became conscious again and brought yourself back to the real world – where exams were dawning and the prospect of fucking a teacher was definitely not. 

“Sir, I think I need a study support, if you’ve got any free days.”

You choked out, deliberately waiting until all the other students had left so you could only embarrass yourself in front of one person instead of many. It just so happened to be that that one person’s approval of you meant more than anything in the world. 

“Uh sure Tasha let me just check-“

Even just him saying your name caused an involuntary chemical reaction in your body – you wanted to moan his name back to him right then and there…

“Yeah I’m sorry I’m all booked up until the test-“

“Damn”

“Unless you can just stay behind for a while now? I’m free today.”

Right now all you wanted to do was have a brisk walk home and go up to your room to get off to the thought of him there with you, but that would have to wait.

“Um yeah, now is fine-“

You answered, barely believably. Mr Knight looked up from his notebook, holding you in his piercing gaze. There was no real need for a reply, so he smirked and gestured towards the nearest desk to him. Clumsily you took the place and got your book out, along with your reading glasses – which you barely got out in maths class as, well, there wasn’t a lot of reading to be done. Smoothly sliding them up the bridge of your nose and taking a sip of water, you found yourself lost in his eyes again. They weren’t green, not definitely, and they weren’t blue either, but whatever it was called was quickly becoming your favourite colour. He chuckled and wrinkled his nose. Never seen a grown ass man look so darn cute. 

“Didn’t know you had glasses,”

The teacher teased, sliding his desk chair closer to your table. You smiled awkwardly, embarrassed and unsure of what to say. 

“Didn’t know you had dimples either.”

He continued with a crooked smile, placing his hand on top of your exercise book and sliding it towards him, not losing concentration on your reddening face. Heartbeat rapid and growing ever faster, you cleared your throat and evaded his glare, quickly changing the topic. 

“So I think it’s just everything after composite functions it all gets muddled up in my head.”

Oh God how you wanted to return his lustful glare, but that just wasn’t on the cards right now. If you wanted to you could be ‘that’ student that constantly flirts with him and over-sexualises every move she makes, but you didn’t want that. Not right now, anyways. Becoming more serious now, his voice different to the teasing only moments ago, he immediately re-instated his authority.

“Right, we’ll start here then.”

His words were final and assertive, you didn’t dare question him. The smirk had left and he sat only a couple feet across from you, focused on the book. Now that was something you couldn’t resist. His sudden shift from playful to powerful was agonisingly attractive to you. The way his jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as he concentrated on the work, as your elder, as your teacher, was irresistible. Your bottom lip surged a deep cherry colour as you bit into it just hard enough to stop yourself from moaning. 

Mr Knight began to mumble something about the page in the book you’d referred to, yet it all seemed background noise as he gracefully tugged on his tie with one hand, loosening it slightly. God knows I’d love that tie wrapped tight around my wrists right about now. Your mind was slipping back into the state you’d felt at the end of last lesson, that sweet state of euphoria you felt when imagining this man completely dominating you. His calloused palms fastening that tie around your hands as you bent helplessly over the desk. The short, breathless grunts he would take as he pushed his hands on top of yours deeper and deeper into the base of your spine, taking you within seconds of orgasm, then pulling out and leaving you aching for more. Finishing himself over your back so you didn’t get the satisfaction of feeling him complete inside you. 

You reached for the water bottle in your bag, hands slightly shaky, and took a large gulp. He set his gaze on your throat, pausing in his speech and separating his lips slightly. Like an animal hungry for its prey he watched as you took a few more sips and swallowed hard. The teacher’s tongue protruded from his mouth, the tip gently glossing over both of his lips. Not even for a second did he try to look away from your neck. Shit, imagine if he crushed it in one hand up against the wall as he pressed his fingers to your opening with the other…

“Well I think that will have to do for today, I’ve got to head home.”

It can't have been any longer than half an hour, maybe he was in more of a hurry than he lot on. Pushing your bottle back down into your bag followed by your book, you nodded in agreement. You were sure there would be no voice there if you tried to speak. Quickly standing up and tucking in your chair, you glanced outside only to notice the rain was pouring down the window, the trees being beaten in every direction by the unforgiving wind.

“Ah, shit.”

You muttered, him now joining you in glumly looking out the window.

“I have to walk home in this.”

Your eyes met again, this time, his were more sympathetic and sorry. Not stopping for time to properly think of an appropriate response to a student, he proposed:

“I can give you a lift home if you live in my direction – better than you getting ill out in this. Whereabouts do you live?”

If it were in a different situation, this question would have been invasive and wrong of a teacher to ask, but seeing as he was trying to help and after all it was him, you replied eagerly.

“Shelsey Close. Bottom of Lark Hill.”

Immediately his eyes were brighter and full of life, the opposite to how they had appeared before. 

“That’s pretty close to where I live – I’ll drop you off, save you the trouble of walking.”

 

He didn’t even ask if you wanted to go with him, which should have been the first warning sign. But being in this situation where it seemed a perfectly normal thing to do, you agreed to his suggestion. After all it was only a 10 minute car journey home…what could possibly happen?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Knight is driving you back home to drop you off, but you receive a text from your mother which alters your plans...

The cold air hit like a punch to the gut as Mr Knight held open the door and smirked at his shoes after looking upon your face of horror. Love the weather in the UK.

“Into the breach…”

You joked, taking in a sharp breath and exiting the building out into the hard rain. A small whimpering sound jumped from your throat as the first few drops fell onto your pale face. Within seconds of standing outside you were almost soaked, as Mr Knight followed you out of the door and swiftly stepped in front, leading you towards the staff car park. He made no attempt to shelter you from the rain; his demeanor suggested he just quickly wanted to get to his car and into the dry. It didn’t really bother you though, as it wasn’t exactly an appropriate scenario for a teacher and student to be in. Neither of you spoke until you got the car, and he quickly unlocked it and shoved his folders onto the backseat.  
Cold digits feeling for the handle and quickly pulling at the passenger door, you clambered into the seat, almost slamming the door behind you. Mr Knight sat adjacent to you in the driver seat, mouth wide open, breathing softly. 

“Take off your blazer.”

Your senior ordered, and your whole body trembled at the sound of his commanding voice rattling in the car. ‘Please, don’t stop there’ you thought. Glancing over at him, he already had his charcoal jacket in his hand, ready to toss on the back seat. He paused, giving you an expectant look. This wouldn’t be the first time you’d pictured him watching you taking your clothes off. But usually, it was just your imagination- late at night. How did he still look good with hair completely fucked by the downpour? His eyes seemed even brighter when his hair looked darker - like one of those cliché teen vampire programmes. 

You tugged at your sodden blazer sleeve, struggling to pull your arm out whilst the rain continued to drip down your face, stemming from your hair and dripping off your chin like tears. Retracting your hand up the sleeve, you were able to get one arm out, and then eventually the other – all whilst he still eagerly watched. Mr Knight wasn’t an overly confident guy, sure he was attractive and definitely over 6 feet tall, yet he seemed like a guarded character. But something that was happening today – right now – that made him seem so primal and hungry. His impression was shifting from the prey to the predator and you weren’t going to be the one to stand in the way of his dominant side making an appearance. After all that was what you had day-dreamed about for the last month or so…

Without a word you handed him your wet blazer and Mr Knight put yours and his together behind you in the car. He turned back to face you, eyeing you up and down and suppressing a smile.

“Admittedly I didn’t think we were going to get that wet.”

Oh please, say that word again. You heard it over and over again in your head until you couldn’t help but to make a faint groan. You couldn’t help but imagine his face looking up at you between your legs telling you how wet you were for him. Managing to pass it off as a laugh you let your eyes close and pressed your head against the back of the seat momentarily. Please just drive before I do something I regret. 

The car rumbled into life and you felt the vibrations underneath the seat. It was still so cold inside, seeing as you were soaked, and you shivered noticeably. His head immediately cocked to the side and saw you in discomfort.

“Sorry, I’ll turn the heater on-”

“Thank you“

You replied far too quickly, almost anticipating what he was going to say as soon as he looked at you. The heat burnt through the vents towards you, instantly relaxing you. Like the feeling of a tight hug and being looked after. That’s how you wanted to feel with him. It wasn’t just the sex, which – yes – admittedly was a big part of it; it was him caring for you like you were his entire world. That’s what you really wanted. Wanted him to own you, and love doing it. 

It was only a few minutes in the car and the radio was on low to rid the awkward silences, but small talk seemed to flow quite freely between you – just as it would with any of your fellow students, or presumably as it would for him with another staff member. 

“Just down here on the right, red door.”

You slipped into the conversation, knowing your stop was growing ever closer. It was a pleasant journey – you’d warmed up just enough now, and the rain was beginning to slow. As Mr Knight turned smoothly into your road, you pulled your phone swiftly out of your pocket and unlocked it. You weren’t allowed mobile phones – it was against school rules – but really none of the teachers seemed to bothered, well none of the nice ones anyway. Seeing you had a new unread message, you tapped on the messages icon to see it was from your mother. 

"Over at Fiona’s house with your dad – invited over for little celebration as she just got a promotion! Won’t be back till late, there’s pizza in the fridge if you want it. X"

“Anything interesting?”

He joked, looking to you and noticing you were on your phone as he pulled up next to your house. You laughed and teased back:

“Parents out for the evening, whole house to myself…probably throw a wild party.”

Mr Knight shook his head playfully and smirked, mirroring your smile. The eye contact was still burning through you, you felt like he could see everything that went through your head when he looked at you like that. Awkwardly at the same time, you both realized it really was time for you time leave, and you had just been sitting, looking at each other for longer than you should have, taking in the view. 

“Right, well thanks for the ride, Sir-“

He squirmed in his seat and swallowed hard, holding his remaining hand between his thighs as he reached back to get your blazer and his jacket. The teacher handed you the blazer, and you turned to unlock the door as you felt his palm firmly gripping just above your knee. It wasn’t enough pressure to hurt, just to shock you and forbid you from moving from the spot. Looking down at his hand your heart thumped to the point where you thought it was definitely visible. His shift in position had brought his face much closer to yours. Your eyes met again, throat dry with anxiety. 

“Change of plans with me as well,”

He continued-

“It seems I’ve got nothing on tonight either.”

Oh, sometimes you really wish he didn’t phrase things so that every fucking line was a dirty one in your troubled head. He noticed you looked completely baffled, you weren’t sure what your response was meant to sound like and even if you didn’t there wasn’t a chance in Hell your voice would be audible right now. Mr Knight released your thigh and sat back, realizing he had your attention.

“All I mean by that is that if you wanted I could come inside and we could finish our study session.”

You were still in awe of what was happening in this car. What the fuck actually was happening? Were you dreaming again? You couldn’t be – by this point he’d already be fucking you senseless on the back seat, fogging up the windows and testing the car’s suspension. Slowly, you tried to gather your words into a formed sentence.

“I guess that would be really helpful, actually-“

His countenance suddenly altered from one of suspense to one of devilish charm, the edges of his mouth widening and his eyes narrowing slightly.  
“Perfect.”

He almost fucking purred. That awkward lanky maths teacher had gone. This new guy fucking exuded sex appeal and confidence, like he could make you come all over yourself with just his eyes. You were already wet thinking about him coming into your home, let alone into your pants. His demeanor was entirely different, he sat laid back in his seat, slouching in the leather yet he was able to be closer to you than ever before. His breathing was smooth, un-hitched, brushing his tongue against the edge of his teeth so subtly it was barely noticeable – but sweet fuck did you notice it. That tongue belonged inside you, buried deep until you were screaming his name, tears streaming down your cheeks when he held you at the point of orgasm and didn’t finish you off…

You pulled yourself away from the eye contact, and climbed out of the car into the cold rain, your legs wobbly and weak. The cold water on your skin stopped the burning from how turned on you already were, making you able to see sense again – at least for a while. The teacher grabbed his things and followed you to the door. 

Was this fucking real?


End file.
